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Noel Noa stepped into the small dorm room he shared with Jinpachi Ego, the dim light from Ego’s laptop casting long shadows on the walls. As usual, Ego sat cross-legged on his bed, his face illuminated by the cold glow of the screen. His expression was blank, his fingers occasionally twitching as if they were trying to grasp something just beyond the screen’s reach.
Noa set down his duffel bag and kicked off his shoes, his movements deliberate but quiet. It was off-season at PSG, and while most of their teammates had scattered to enjoy their break, Noa had nowhere to go. He wasn’t interested in distractions. His evenings were spent on the field, sharpening his precision, his power, his freedom. But every night, he came back to the same thing: Ego, alone, staring at his laptop.
Noa didn’t usually question it—Ego was just weird. It wasn’t a bad weird, but an off weird. The kind of weird that made you unsure whether you wanted to know what was going on inside his head. They barely spoke beyond football, and even then, Ego’s cryptic remarks often left him feeling like he was missing some hidden context.
Noa shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the back of a chair. “What are you watching this time?” he asked, the curiosity he usually buried finally bubbling up. He kept his tone neutral, but his eyes flicked to the screen.
Ego didn’t respond immediately. He shifted slightly, adjusting his glasses, and murmured without looking away, “A study in perfection. Or destruction. Take your pick.”
Noa raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ego finally turned his head, his dark eyes meeting Noa’s briefly before flicking back to the screen. “Black Swan. A masterpiece of obsession.” He tilted his head, almost to himself. “You might like it, Noa. It’s about breaking free.”
Noa leaned against his bedframe, crossing his arms. “Breaking free? From what?”
Ego smirked, the kind of expression that made Noa wonder if he was the butt of some joke he didn’t understand. “Limitations. Expectations. Your own mind.” He paused, then gestured to the empty space beside him. “Care to join? Or would that interfere with your perfect evening schedule?”
Noa hesitated. Watching a movie with Ego seemed about as relaxing as sharing a cage with a tiger, but something about the way he phrased it tugged at his curiosity. Maybe, for once, he’d entertain the weirdo.
He sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Fine. But if it’s boring, I’m leaving.”
Ego grinned, an eerie but almost victorious look. “Oh, it’s never boring.”
Noa grabbed the closest chair from the desk and dragged it across the room, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. He plopped down next to Ego’s bed, facing the screen. His arms crossed in front of his chest, and he settled into the chair with a small grunt, giving Ego a sideways glance.
Ego, without a word, moved the laptop slightly to the side, making just enough space for both of them to get a decent view of the screen. The movie's muted intensity filled the room, but Noa wasn’t really focused on it just yet. He was too distracted by the way Ego was acting, the eerie calm in his movements, the casualness of it all. It was like this had become some weird routine for him.
“Almost done with this, huh?” Noa said, trying to sound casual but with a hint of impatience creeping into his tone. “If we’re near the end, maybe we can just skip it and do something else. I’m sure there’s—”
“No, no,” Ego interrupted, not even glancing up as he moved the screen slightly more to center it. “I don’t mind watching it again. I’ve already rewatched it fifteen times.”
Noa blinked, feeling his stomach tighten at the number. “Fifteen times?” he echoed, looking over at Ego like he was trying to decide if he was joking or not. It was the kind of look you give someone when you realize you might have just crossed into some uncharted territory of weirdness.
Ego didn’t react to the judgment in Noa’s eyes. His face remained expressionless, but there was something almost pleased in his tone when he answered. “Yes. Each time, you notice something different. Something… new.” His fingers drummed against his knee, a faint rhythm that seemed to pulse with the slow intensity of the movie. “It’s all about paying attention to the details.”
Noa shook his head, a faint smile pulling at his lips despite himself. He wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned or impressed. “You really are a weirdo,” he muttered under his breath, still glancing at the screen but not truly watching it. He could barely understand why anyone would want to rewatch something so many times.
Ego didn’t take offense, but there was a brief glint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re entitled to your opinion,” he said simply. “But some things are worth rewatching. It’s the same reason athletes practice the same move a hundred times. To find that one perfect moment.”
“Right,” Noa said, almost sarcastically. He shifted in his seat and glanced at the laptop again, wondering what he had gotten himself into. Still, part of him felt drawn to the calmness of the atmosphere. It was strange—this room felt different when it was just the two of them. No tension, no expectations. Just quiet. It was almost like a break from the pressure they both constantly lived under.
“Isn’t that a bit obsessive, though?” Noa asked, unable to stop himself. His eyes flicked toward Ego, who still seemed completely unfazed, staring ahead as though he were seeing things Noa couldn’t quite grasp.
Ego finally looked at him, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips. “Perfection,” he said softly. “Is an obsession. If you want it, you have to let it consume you.”
Noa let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair as the silence settled again between them. The movie continued, but his mind was elsewhere, caught between the unsettling familiarity of Ego’s words and the subtle, unnerving pull they had on him.
“Sounds exhausting,” Noa muttered, not sure if he was still talking about the movie or about Ego.
Ego’s eyes flicked toward him, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Maybe. But if you’re not willing to be consumed, you’ll never know if you can truly master something. You should try it sometime, Noa.”
Noa looked away, feeling an odd tightness in his chest. “Maybe I will,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. He didn’t know what it was about Ego’s words, but something in them felt like a challenge, one he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept.
Instead of responding, Ego simply turned his gaze back to the screen, his fingers moving once more in that strange, hypnotic rhythm. And Noa, despite the weight of the words hanging in the air, found himself watching the movie—not out of interest—but because it was the only thing left to focus on in that quiet, eerie space.
Noa couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in his seat as the movie’s plot twisted into darker territory. The images on the screen were unsettling—an eerie mix of suspense and twisted psychological tension. The music, slow and ominous, dripped through the air, filling the room with a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. It wasn’t the kind of thing Noa would have chosen to watch, and his stomach churned with a growing sense of unease. He glanced at Ego, who was watching the screen with unnerving calm, eyes locked onto the flickering images as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
“What the hell is this?” Noa muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, though his eyes never left the screen. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, even if he wanted to. “Is this supposed to be... entertaining?”
Ego, without looking away, let out a soft, almost condescending chuckle. “It’s called The Sixth Sense. Psychological thrillers are an art form, Noa. You wouldn’t understand.”
Noa grimaced, his unease growing with every passing second. “Art form? It’s just creepy.” He shifted again, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders, suddenly feeling very aware of the room’s silence. “I don’t get how you can watch this stuff. Isn’t it just... disturbing?”
Ego glanced at him briefly, his lips curling into a sly smile. “It’s a film about seeing beyond the surface,” he said with feigned sweetness. “Something you might need to do with your own plays, if you’re not too busy following the ‘rules’ all the time.”
Noa scowled, his face flushing with a mix of irritation and awkwardness. “I’m not talking about my football right now,” he snapped, though it wasn’t exactly with anger—more like a quick defense mechanism. “I’m talking about this—this thing you’re watching! It’s weird. Seriously, it’s like it’s designed to mess with your head.”
Ego’s smile only grew wider, amused by the discomfort written all over Noa’s face. “You know,” he said, voice laced with sarcasm, “this is the most I’ve heard you talk in... well, ever. You’ve got a lot of opinions when it comes to movies.”
Noa shot him a glare, feeling the weight of his discomfort grow. “I’m just saying, your taste in movies is... unsettling,” he muttered, crossing his arms tightly. His mind was buzzing with the imagery from the film, and the unnerving realization that he was sitting next to someone who clearly found enjoyment in this kind of stuff didn’t help.
Ego leaned back, tilting his head slightly as he regarded Noa. His eyes gleamed with something darkly amused. “Ah, well,” he said, stretching his arms casually behind his head. “I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand the finer things in life. This movie’s complexity... it’s not for everyone.”
Noa exhaled sharply through his nose, staring down at his shoes, wishing the movie would end already. He hadn’t even realized how much he was judging Ego—his strange, detached way of being, his eerie obsession with these unsettling films—but now he couldn’t ignore it. “I mean, it’s like... what kind of person watches this over and over again?” Noa asked, though it sounded more like an exasperated rhetorical question. “It’s just... kind of messed up.”
Ego tilted his head back towards the screen, eyes narrowing slightly as the tension in the movie built to a near unbearable level. “The kind of person who appreciates the complexity of human nature,” he replied dryly, his voice tinged with the slightest edge of sarcasm. “Not everyone’s content with the simplicity of an easy, straightforward plot.”
Noa huffed, unable to fully explain why he was still so weirded out. Maybe it was the movie’s eerie atmosphere. Or maybe it was Ego, sitting there so unfazed by it all, like this was just another Tuesday for him. But something about it—about him—made Noa feel like he was missing a piece of the puzzle.
"Seriously, though," Noa muttered, glancing over at Ego, "this isn't normal. I mean... watching this movie fifteen times? What is it with you and being... creepy?”
Ego didn’t react, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “You think I’m creepy because I find value in things most people overlook?” His tone had that same dry, calculating edge, as if the idea of being called “creepy” didn’t bother him in the slightest. “People are boring. They don’t look beneath the surface. I just like to understand things on a deeper level.”
Noa snorted, his judgment seeping through. “Well, I’d say there’s a limit to how much ‘depth’ a movie about a ghost can have.”
Ego let out a long sigh, shifting his position. “And yet,” he said almost lazily, “here you are, watching it. You’re welcome, Noa. You might just be learning something today.”
Noa leaned back in his chair, glaring at the screen, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the strange feeling of being pulled into this whole unsettling world Ego seemed to inhabit. He didn’t know what bothered him more—the movie, or the fact that Ego seemed so at ease in this strange, dark corner of his mind.
"Whatever," Noa muttered, crossing his arms and slumping further into his seat. "Just finish it already. I'm already regretting being curious."
Ego’s smirk was barely noticeable as he shifted his focus back to the screen, fully aware that Noa’s discomfort was only adding to his enjoyment of the film. "Oh, Noa," he said softly, as if speaking to a child, "you’ll get used to it. In time, you'll see the beauty in it too."
Noa just rolled his eyes, but for the rest of the movie, he couldn’t help but feel like there was more to Ego than he cared to admit, even if it was just a little... creepy.
The movie finally ended, the credits rolling across the screen as the haunting music slowly faded out. Noa exhaled sharply, relieved it was over, and stretched his arms as if trying to shake off the unease that had settled in his chest. Ego, however, remained still, eyes scanning the screen with a slight hint of satisfaction.
“Well, that was... something,” Noa muttered, not sure how to phrase his discomfort without sounding overly critical. “I don’t know how you can sit through that... so often.”
Ego didn’t respond immediately, his gaze still fixed on the now black screen, but his lips curled into a knowing smirk. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his tone nonchalant yet tinged with curiosity. “I’m curious, Noa,” he said, turning to face his roommate, his eyes gleaming with that same sharp edge. “What kind of movies would you prefer?”
Noa blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. He wasn’t used to Ego being so... direct, especially about something as trivial as movies. It caught him off guard, but he had to admit, he didn’t really know how to answer.
“Well,” Noa started, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, “I guess I don’t really watch a lot of movies, to be honest. Mostly just... sports stuff. Maybe a documentary or two.” He shrugged, feeling a bit awkward. “Something more real, you know? I like things that feel... more grounded. Less... messed up.”
Ego tilted his head slightly, considering this for a moment. “Sports documentaries, huh?” he mused, his voice dry but somehow intrigued. “How fascinating. I suppose you’d enjoy something like The Last Dance? That’s all about... the grind, the discipline, the reality of the game.” He made air quotes as he said the word “reality,” as if it were something Noa clung to like a shield.
Noa furrowed his brow, slightly defensive. “It’s not all about reality, okay? It’s just... easier to connect with something that’s based on real life. I can understand that.”
Ego hummed thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. “Mmm, real life. I suppose there’s something comforting about it.” He sat up straighter, eyes glinting with that familiar amusement. “But isn’t there something... limiting about it too? It’s all just so predictable, isn’t it?”
Noa frowned, the frustration from earlier creeping back in. “What’s your point, Ego?”
Ego’s lips twitched into a smirk. “You like real life because it’s familiar. It’s safe, simple, but... where’s the challenge in that? Where’s the excitement?” He leaned forward slightly, his voice lower now, as if he were savoring each word. “A movie, a good movie, takes you somewhere. It makes you question everything, challenge your perception of the world. It isn’t comfortable... but it’s fascinating.”
Noa squinted at him, starting to feel like he was missing something. “But don’t you get tired of it? Watching the same thing over and over? Isn’t that, I don’t know, boring?”
Ego laughed softly, the sound rich with sarcasm. “Boring? No, Noa. It’s not boring.” He paused, the smirk on his lips widening as he watched Noa’s confusion grow. “It’s comforting... in its own way. Sometimes, you need something you can control. A world that isn’t unpredictable, chaotic. Something to lean on.”
Noa stared at him, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. It was clear Ego had a very different outlook on the world—and movies—than he did. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Ego’s obsession with dark, twisted films was... off.
“No offense,” Noa said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “but I’ll stick to my documentaries and stuff. I don’t need to... get lost in some crazy, messed-up movie to feel... whatever it is you feel when you watch this stuff.”
Ego raised an eyebrow, leaning back again, his smile never wavering. “Fair enough,” he said lightly. “But I’ll warn you, Noa... sooner or later, you might start craving a bit more... unpredictability. Real life can only give you so much. At least a movie has a plot.”
Noa didn’t have a response to that, so he just shook his head and stood up, glancing at the door. “I’m gonna go train. I can’t sit here any longer,” he muttered, still feeling a little shaken from the movie.
Ego gave him a casual nod, his eyes flicking back to the screen. “Sure. Go run off and be the good, obedient player. I’ll be here, feeding my mind with real depth.”
Noa paused, then sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the weirdness of the situation. “You’re seriously one strange guy, Ego.”
Ego didn’t even glance at him, his attention already back on the dark screen. “I know.”
Noa shook his head, as he got out of the chair to leave the soft glow of Ego’s phone screen caught his eye. The notification light blinked, and the screen lit up with a bright image of Spider-Man, the superhero perched confidently in the middle of the screen, swinging through a cityscape. Noa froze for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
He stared at the phone screen for a beat longer than necessary, the contrast between the dark, psychological film they’d just watched and the colorful, iconic superhero wallpaper too amusing to ignore. He couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. “Wait, that’s your wallpaper?” Noa asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Ego, who had been lazily slouched on his bed, glanced down at his phone when he heard the amused tone. His expression remained impassive, but the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “Yes. What about it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly not understanding why Noa was so fascinated by it.
Noa shook his head, still chuckling under his breath. “I just... didn’t expect that,” he admitted. “I thought you'd be into, I don’t know, darker, creepy things, not some cartoon superhero.”
Ego narrowed his eyes, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “What can I say? Spider-Man’s a symbol of responsibility, power, and—” He paused, the usual sarcasm creeping into his voice. “—a man who has to balance everything in his life. Doesn’t that sound familiar?”
Noa blinked, genuinely confused for a moment before realizing what Ego was implying. “You think you relate to Spider-Man?” he asked, laughing now, louder than before. “Ego, you’re—”
“I’m serious,” Ego cut him off, a slightly defensive edge creeping into his voice. “Spider-Man, unlike all the brooding antiheroes you probably admire, is about choices. About sacrifice. It’s not all about power or the dark side of things. It’s about understanding what it means to use what you have for the right reasons.”
Noa stopped laughing, his face softening slightly at the unexpected depth in Ego’s words. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he muttered, trying to hold back a smile. “But I still didn’t think you’d be into... superheroes.”
Ego tilted his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Why? Just because I enjoy a bit of chaos and complexity doesn’t mean I’m incapable of appreciating the simplicity of something... noble.” His voice was smooth, but there was an almost imperceptible edge to it, as if he were subtly challenging Noa’s judgment.
Noa shook his head, grinning despite himself. “You’re definitely full of surprises. I still don’t get how you can go from watching that movie to having Spider-Man as your wallpaper, but I guess... whatever works for you.”
Ego smiled, his eyes flicking back to his phone screen, though his gaze remained distant, as if lost in thought. “Everyone has their contradictions, Noa. You just have to embrace them.”
Noa sat back down in the chair, his curiosity piqued once again. “I’m starting to realize that about you.” He studied Ego for a moment, the strange mix of darkness and light in the guy’s personality drawing him in more than he cared to admit.
Ego met his gaze for a second, then shrugged nonchalantly, “You’ll get used to it.”
Noa just shook his head, unable to suppress his smile. "Maybe I will. But you're still a weirdo."
Ego gave him a sharp, amused glance before going back to his phone, the faint smirk still on his lips. “And you’re still surprisingly talkative tonight, Noa. I’ve never heard you say this much.”
Noa snorted, crossing his arms. “Well, you’ve been giving me a lot to think about. Spider-Man? Really?”
Ego only shrugged, unfazed. "Don’t judge a book by its cover, Noa. Even a weirdo like me has layers."
Noa rolled his eyes, but there was a sense of reluctant amusement in his voice as he said, "Yeah, yeah. Layers."
The room fell into a brief silence, with both of them quietly acknowledging the oddity of the situation. It was a strange kind of truce—two complete opposites, each unknowingly learning a little more about the other, piece by piece.
Ego’s eyes flicked to Noa, a sudden curiosity in his expression. “So, Noa, since we’re talking superheroes, who’s your favorite hero?”
Noa blinked in surprise. “Uh... I don’t really have one,” he said, frowning. “I haven’t watched a single DC movie.”
Ego froze, his face morphing from his usual nonchalance into one of genuine bafflement. “Wait—DC?” he repeated, as if the concept itself had just shattered his entire world view. “No, no, no. Spider-Man is from Marvel, not DC. Are you telling me you haven’t seen a single Marvel movie either?!”
Noa raised an eyebrow, shrugging casually. “I don’t watch that stuff. It’s not really my thing.”
Ego sat up a little straighter in his bed, clearly thrown by the revelation. “Are you kidding me? No Marvel movies? Not even the classics? How do you even live in the 21st century without knowing about the Avengers, or Iron Man, or... any of them?”
Noa was now utterly confused. "I mean, I’ve seen the posters, but—"
“No,” Ego cut him off, his voice growing more urgent. “We are having a superhero marathon. Right now. You’re going to watch the best of the best so you can pick a side. Are you Marvel or are you DC? I need you to make an informed decision.”
Noa stared at Ego as if he’d just grown a second head. “Wait, hold on,” he said slowly, still processing. “You’re serious? A marathon?”
“Yes! A marathon!” Ego said, his eyes lighting up. He didn’t even seem to care about Noa’s reluctance. “It’s happening. We’ll start with the classics—Iron Man, Captain America, and if you’re lucky, I’ll throw in some X-Men for good measure.”
Noa’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or run away. “Ego… do you have a personality disorder or something?” he asked bluntly, staring at his roommate in disbelief.
Ego, for a moment, seemed genuinely confused by the question. “A personality disorder?” He laughed, clearly unbothered. “No, Noa, I just have standards.” He paused, as if it was completely normal for him to dictate superhero tastes in such a way. “You, on the other hand, might need an intervention. I’m just doing my part to make sure you don’t miss out on the cultural phenomenon that is Marvel.”
Noa looked at him for a moment, still lost. “Are you… seriously this passionate about this?”
Ego’s eyes gleamed, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “You have no idea. I’m going to make you a fan whether you want to be or not. By the time this marathon is over, you’ll have a favorite hero, Noa.”
Noa, unsure whether to be more alarmed or amused, simply let out a defeated sigh and shook his head. “I don’t even know how I got roped into this.”
Ego shrugged casually, a smirk still on his face. “Welcome to my world. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
The silence that followed was filled with an overwhelming sense of absurdity, with Noa still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his roommate—the same guy who had been obsessed with dark, psychological movies—was now fervently planning a superhero marathon. The shift in Ego’s demeanor had caught him completely off guard.
Finally, Noa relented with a groan. “Alright, alright. But I’m not going to like it.”
Ego gave him a dramatic, over-the-top look, as if Noa had just agreed to join him in the most important mission of their lives. “You’ll come around,” he said, as he began navigating his laptop to set up the first movie. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Noa sank into the chair, a small smile forming despite himself. He couldn’t decide whether Ego was a genius or just plain insane, but for the first time since they’d been roommates, he was actually starting to find him… interesting.
By the time Ego had finished setting up the first movie, Noa was already questioning his life choices. As the Marvel logo flashed on the screen, Ego leaned back, clearly in his element.
“Alright, rookie,” Ego announced, his voice dripping with mock authority. “Buckle up. Your education begins now.”
Noa raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “This feels more like an ambush than an education.”
“Semantics,” Ego replied with a dismissive wave.
The marathon began in earnest, and to Noa’s surprise, he found himself enjoying the movies more than he expected. As the Avengers assembled and the action sequences grew more explosive, Noa occasionally glanced at Ego, who was thoroughly engrossed, even mouthing some of the lines as they played out.
“You’ve watched this so many times you’ve memorized it?” Noa asked during The Avengers.
Ego nodded without hesitation. “This is cinema at its peak. Of course I have. You should be taking notes.”
“On what? Explosions?”
“On how to appreciate greatness,” Ego shot back, smirking.
Despite himself, Noa chuckled. The hours ticked by, movie after movie, until Ego decided it was time to “expand Noa’s horizons” by adding some DC movies into the mix.
“You’ve seen the Marvel perspective,” Ego said, flipping through his collection. “Now, let’s compare. Let’s see if your taste holds up under scrutiny.”
Noa sighed but didn’t object. “Fine. But you’re setting a high bar.”
The transition to DC was… different. The darker tones, grittier characters, and heavier themes made Noa sit up straighter. By the time The Dark Knight rolled around, he found himself completely absorbed.
“This,” Noa said, gesturing to the screen as Batman faced off against the Joker, “this is intense.”
Ego rolled his eyes but grinned. “Of course you’d like the brooding, tortured guy in a bat costume.”
Noa shrugged. “It’s better than whatever Thor was doing in that last movie.”
“Blasphemy,” Ego muttered, but there was no real bite to it.
The marathon stretched well into the night, then into the early morning. The dorm room grew darker, illuminated only by the glow of the laptop screen. Somewhere around the 10-hour mark, Ego noticed Noa shifting uncomfortably in the chair and scooted over on his bed, patting the empty space beside him.
Noa hesitated, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Offering you a better seat,” Ego said casually. “Relax, I’m not going to bite.”
Noa eventually relented, sitting on the edge of the bed. He remained stiff at first, but as the hours wore on, he leaned back slightly, finding himself less bothered by the arrangement.
By the time they reached Justice League, the clock had crept past 2 p.m. Noa squinted at the window, rubbing his neck. “Wait… is that sunlight? Have we seriously been watching these all night?”
Ego, completely unfazed, leaned back against his bedframe. “Time flies when you’re being educated.”
Noa gave him a flat look. “Educated? On what? Superheroes in spandex?”
“Exactly,” Ego replied with a smug grin. “I just expanded your cultural horizons, Noa. You should be thanking me.”
Noa shook his head, still trying to process the sheer amount of movies they’d powered through. “Alright, fine. If this is your idea of culture, who’s your favorite hero then?”
Ego’s smirk widened as if he’d been waiting for the question. “Spider-Man, obviously. Smart, funny, and absolutely iconic. Now your turn—who’s yours?”
Noa crossed his arms, taking his time just to irritate him. Finally, he said, “Nightwing.”
Ego froze, his smug grin dropping. “Nightwing? As in the guy who graduated from Batman’s shadow to become... Batman-lite?”
Noa smirked. “You asked, I answered. He’s got style. Plus, he’s not quipping every two seconds like your guy.”
“That’s called charm,” Ego shot back, leaning forward. “Spider-Man’s the backbone of modern superheroes. Nightwing is just... aerobics Batman.”
Noa snorted. “Says the guy who’s watched Spider-Man movies twenty-seven times. You’ve got a bias.”
“I’ve got taste, and it wasn't twenty-seven times, it was twenty-eight, ” Ego corrected, jabbing a finger in Noa’s direction. “This is a disappointing result, you’ve clearly learned nothing.”
Noa gave a casual shrug. “Learned plenty. Like how much time you waste watching superhero movies.”
“And yet here you are,” Ego fired back, gesturing at the screen. “Fifteen hours later and one bad opinion richer.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Noa chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous enough to win this argument,” Ego said, folding his arms with a triumphant grin. “Face it, Noa. You like Spider-Man. You just don’t want to admit it.”
Noa stood, stretching lazily. “Keep dreaming, Ego. I’m sticking with Nightwing. But thanks for the... ‘education,’ I guess.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ego replied, rolling his eyes. “Seriously. Don’t.”
As Noa left the room to find some food, Ego muttered to himself with a shake of his head. “Nightwing. Unreal.”
From the hallway, Noa’s voice floated back. “Still better than Spider-Man!”
Ego smirked, leaning back against his bedframe. “Hopeless,” he muttered, but there was a faint trace of amusement in his tone.